Lessons
by Mar Komi
Summary: While en route to Boros, two members of the crew solve a mystery, one rediscovers his inner child, one learns how to be weak and helpless, and their captain ponders his losses and shortcomings. A study of friendships. 2nd in the Eagle series.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Don't own, etc, etc.

**Characters: **Everyone except Inara (okay, a little cameo for her as well). Interactions is the keyword here.

**A/N: **This story is a continuation of my previous story "Eagle" and picks up just where that ended. It's set post-series and pre-movie.

_Håkon - this is for you._

* * *

><p><strong>Lessons<strong>

Kaylee hadn't meant to snoop. It had just been lying there in plain sight for everyone to see. Well, actually it had been lying under the eating table for particularly observant people to see, but still. And really, there was nothing wrong with picking up things you happened to find on the floor, was there?

She'd been the first one to enter _Serenity_'s kitchen that morning, and as she turned on the lamps she'd seen the light reflected in something propped up against one of the table legs. Everything that glimmers ain't gold, she knew that, but it could be engine parts and when you were Kaywinnit Lee Frye that could thrill you just as much. So she'd bent down and picked it up.

It had turned out to be a lapel pin, a cross to be exact, and she'd recognized it as Shepherd Book's (and even if she hadn't, who else would wear a cross on this ship?). She was about to put it on the table for him to find when she saw the inscription on the back.

_Adelaide, _it read, and then the numbers _0012-0016-0999. _

She hadn't meant to snoop. And honestly, that inscription didn't have to mean anything. But she still had that notion that it did, and Adelaide, that was a girl's name, wasn't it? The preacher and a girl, now _that _would spike anybody's curiosity.

Her first instinct was to just ask him. That was how she usually found the answers to her questions. She knew she had this aura of innocence about her that inspired confidence and could make even the most closed-off, hard-hearted people spill their guts, and the shepherd was neither closed-off nor hard-hearted (albeit a little secretive). But something in the back of her mind told her that this was a rather private matter and perhaps she couldn't or shouldn't ask him about an inscription she'd never been supposed to see. And besides, Book was otherwise occupied at the moment. He was downstairs watching over Jayne, who was still pretty sick.

Just as she was pondering her options the captain entered the room, and for some reason she hurriedly hid the pin in her hand before he got a chance to see it.

"Good morning, Cap'n," she smiled at him.

He looked tired. Not like someone who had been dragged out of bed too early, but like someone who hadn't been in bed at all. His face was haggard, stubs on his cheeks and chin told her he hadn't bothered to shave for days, and there was a haunted look in his eyes that made her heart sink when she saw it.

"Morning, Kaylee," he said. "You're up early."

"Not really," she said, still smiling, always smiling, hoping she would be able to put him in a better mood if she just kept smiling. "It's just everybody else bein' late."

He glanced at his watch. "Hm, you're right." He stretched and then rubbed his hands against the back of his head. "Well, it don't matter. It's not like we'll be incredibly busy the next couple a days. Any coffee?"

"Not yet. I'll put it on."

"I can do it."

"No, Cap'n, sit. I can see you been on the bridge all night." She eagerly gestured for him to take a seat and when he did, she went to the stove to put the kettle on. She put Shepherd Book's pin in the pocket of her overalls; she could give it to him later and then maybe ask about the name if it felt right.

The captain rubbed his eyes. "How long 'til we reach Boros, you reckon?"

"Well, your estimation's as good as mine, Cap'n. We're only flyin' at half speed to make the fuel last, so like a _week_, maybe? You should ask Wash, I'm not really sure which route he plotted."

"Yeah." He sighed. "S'gonna be a long trip anyways. And there better be work waitin' once we get there, 'cause we're all outta money. And this time I really mean it. No coin whatsoever."

"Oh, we'll find somethin'," she said as cheerfully as she possibly could. "Seems to me we always do."

"Yeah," he flatly repeated, his eyes fixed at something non-existent on the wall.

"Cheer up, Cap. There's food enough to last for a good while, and we're all still here. Coulda been worse."

She could have bitten off her tongue! What a thing to say! _We're all still here? _Judging by the shadow of gloom that fell across his already darkened face, he was thinking the same as her.

They weren't all still here. Inara was gone.

Way to go! Reminding her already clearly depressed captain of what was probably his biggest loss ever.

"I mean," she hesitantly began, "we got Jayne back, and Simon says he'll be fine, and… Oh, water's boiling! Coffee!"

Saved by the bell, she poured the hot water over the freeze-dried powder and placed the mug in front of him, smiling a little too broadly before she hurried out of the room.

The pin in her pocket was already forgotten.

* * *

><p>"<em>Your toes are in the sand."<em>

That was River's voice.

Jayne frowned. What the hell was Crazy doing here? And besides, it was his face that was in the sand, not his gorram toes. Well, maybe they were too, what did _he_ know, by now he couldn't feel much in his extremities. Except for the ever-present pain.

He had no idea how much time had passed, it could be hours, maybe days. He only knew the rough sand beneath his cheek, the dust that would whirl up into his nose and mouth every time he tried to speak, and the big rock he was clinging to. Sometimes it was really cold, sometimes the heat was unbearable, but the sand and the rock was there, and he clung to that rock as if he was clinging to his life, and maybe he was. And the pain was there constantly, and he kept breathing in that dust, and he was slipping and darkness tried to claim him.

And Crazy's voice.

"_Jayne is a girl's name."_

He wanted to yell at her. Tell her to help him. And why wasn't she? Why was she just standing there, seeing him in this sorry state, not doing a gorram thing to get him out of it?

"_Also, I can kill you with my brain."_

He could actually hear his heart starting to pound faster. Adrenaline rush. He was still alive then. He reached for the rock, determined not to let go of it.

He opened his eyes.

And saw pale yellow walls, a ceiling overhead, specks of rust on the molding. The sand was gone and so was the dust but his mouth remained dry, and the pain was still there but not even half as bad as before. He squinted a little, glanced around, tried to make sense of these new surroundings. He was in bed, lying down, covered by a thin sheet and a blanket, a soft pillow under his head, an IV bag hanging next to him…

"You're in the passenger dorm," a voice softly said and he turned his head the other way and saw Shepherd Book sitting there on a chair, an open book resting on his knee. "We moved you in here last night. Thought it would be more comfortable for you. Less windows and the bed's softer."

Jayne frowned at him and the older man smiled and added, "It's just that every time you wake up, you get that same puzzled look in your eyes."

Jayne wanted to speak, but his parched tongue was kind of stuck to the roof of his mouth and all he could manage was a raspy cough.

"You want some water?" the preacher asked. Without waiting for an answer, he put his book away and reached for a tin mug standing on the little nightstand. There was a straw in it and he bent it to Jayne's lips, allowing him to take a couple of good sips.

"Do you remember what happened to you?" Book asked afterwards.

"Bits," Jayne answered. "I think there was sand involved."

The preacher smiled a little. "Well, you were in a dessert when we found you. You've been shot and then fell and broke your leg."

Strangely enough, Jayne hadn't realized until now that his entire right leg was in a cast, resting on a pile of pillows, and he looked at it with great disapproval.

Things were slowly coming back to him, but he wasn't quite sure what was real and what wasn't, and it was all just confusing. But he could hear the hum of the engine now, and at least _that _was real, and it meant that he was really back on _Serenity._

He closed his eyes.

"You been with me?" he asked Book, his voice slurred as sleep began to reclaim him.

"I have," he heard the answer, the voice gradually growing more distant. "Needed to keep an eye on you. You've been very ill, we almost lost you. Doctor says you're out of the woods now, though."

Thanks.

He wasn't sure if he spoke the word out loud or if he just thought it. But he really meant it.


	2. Chapter 2

Zoë was waking up. And in the best way possible. Slowly, gradually, and with a smile on her lips as all the familiar sounds entered her consciousness; the low hum of the engine, the occasional thump from the cargo bay as the cargo there slightly shifted. She opened her eyes, and while stretching her rested body and still smiling, she glanced at the walls and the ceiling of her bunk, perfectly convinced that this was the best place in the 'verse to wake up in. Next to her Wash began to stir and she crept closer and put her arm around him.

"Good morning," she whispered and kissed the back of his neck.

"Morning," he mumbled and rolled over unto his back to face her.

They took a moment to just look at each other, to take in all the known and beloved features. Then they kissed, slowly and passionate, before she put her head down on his chest, a sigh of satisfaction escaping her lips.

"What time is it?" she asked.

He stretched and shifted and reached for his watch. "Wow…"

"What?"

"It's not so much _morning _anymore."

Her head snapped back up and she took the watch from his hand and looked at it herself. It was almost 11 am. "_Ai ya_," she said. "Weren't you supposed to be on the bridge by eight?"

"I was. Musta forgot to set the alarm."

She sat up, and after stretching one last time he followed her example. "Funny how the captain hasn't been around to wake us," he said. "Or maybe he has and we didn't hear 'im and he's waitin' outside ready to chew my head off." He frowned and then innocently added, "Maybe we should just stay in bed today?"

Zoë was already searching for her clothes on the floor and she turned back to face him, a half smile on her lips. "If he tried to wake us, honey, he'd have succeeded."

His eyes widened. "Then he must be dead! Maybe Jayne finally snapped and did everybody else."

Zoë knew her husband well enough to recognize one of his terrible jokes, and she picked up one of his dirty socks and threw at him. "Jayne's in no condition for killing anything right now, except maybe the doctor's will to live. I'm sure Mal and the others are fine."

"You think he just let us sleep in?"

She frowned. "I certainly don't hope so."

"You _don't_?"

"If he's startin' to cut us some slack, it means he's slippin'. Means his head is elsewhere."

"So you actually prefer the guy who'll bite my head off for oversleepin'?"

"Yes. At least I know that guy's healthy."

Wash gave no response to this and unceremoniously tumbled out of bed and started looking for his cleanest dirty shirt. Zoë splashed a little water on her face and under her arms, already longing for a real bath, and then got dressed. She waited a little to give her husband the chance to catch up with her, and then they climbed out of their bunk together and headed for the kitchen.

Mal was there all by himself. He sat at the table, mindlessly stacking a series of small tin cups on top of each other. His account book lay open in front of him, but he wasn't really looking at hit.

"So sorry, sir," Zoë said as she and Wash entered the room. "Seems we slept a little too well tonight."

"No worries," the captain said and sat back in his chair. Zoë couldn't hide the frown that fell across her face. This was what she'd feared.

Wash started rummaging through the cupboards. "Anyone up for breakfeast, um, _brunch_?"

Zoë didn't answer him. She just eyed her captain. "What's wrong, sir?"

He looked up. "Oh, you know, just the usual; we're out of money."

"The Sanchez brothers will have work for us," she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she was.

"Well, if they _don't,_" Mal gave his little tin cup tower a push so the cups clattered across the table, "we'll be staying on Boros for a while." He looked at Wash. "When do we get there?"

"Eight days," Wash answered.

"Eight days," the captain repeated and closed his book.

"Go get some sleep, sir," Zoë insisted. "You look like hell, if you don't mind me sayin'."

Mal looked like he was about to tell her that was never going to happen, but then he just sighed. "Yeah, guess you're right. Wash, you got the helm."

"Yessir, Cap'n," Wash said with his mouth full of molded protein.

Mal left and Zoë watched him from the doorway to make sure he really went to his bunk. He did, and satisfied – but not less worried – she went to get some food for herself.

Eight days to Boros.

She had a feeling it was going to be a _long_ trip.

* * *

><p>Simon knocked on the sliding doors and when there was no reply, he slid it open and stepped inside the tiny room. Judging by Jayne's breathing the man was about to wake up, and when Simon flipped the light switch he definitively did and turned away from the lamp with a disapproving growl.<p>

"Sorry," Simon said, "but I need to see."

Jayne squinted up at him. "Whatta ya want?"

"Just a check-up," Simon replied as he put his medical bag down on the chair Shepherd Book no longer occupied.

"Where'd the preacher go?" Jayne asked.

"Went for a snack. He'll be back, I'm sure."

Simon fought the overwhelming sense of tiredness that seemed persistent to take hold of him while he prepared the syringe he'd brought. Jayne eyed it suspiciously. "Antibiotics," Simon explained. "You had a pretty nasty infection going there. Just making sure we get rid of it all." He plunged the needle into the IV port at the back of his patient's hand and emptied the contents directly into his bloodstream.

Jayne muttered something unintelligible and seemed to have trouble even keeping his eyes open at this point. Simon felt his forehead and then pulled the thermometer from the bag and took his temperature, ignoring the big man's feeble attempts at swatting him. "You've still got a fever," he said, "but that's to be expected."

He pulled the blankets down and started to unwrap the bandages to inspect the bullet wound in Jayne's left side. He was glad to see that the swelling had abated and that there was no suppuration anymore. "I need to flip you over a little," he said as he gave Jayne a gentle push by the hip to have a look at the exit wound as well. Jayne tried to help, and Simon could sense the man's frustration as his body wouldn't quite cooperate. "It's alright, I got it," he said and quickly examined the injury. It seemed to be healing nicely at this end too.

He redressed the wounds and by the time he was finished, Jayne was shivering, freezing feverishly without the blanket.

"Leg bothering you?" Simon asked.

"It's in a gorram cast," Jayne said, scowling at him but not really looking so intimidating with his chattering teeth. "Of course it bothers me."

The corner of Simon's mouth twitched a little. "I mean, do you require painkillers?"

"Nah, 's alright," Jayne answered.

He tried to pull the blanket back up, but his hands were shaking and he couldn't quite get a grip on it. This further annoyed him and he muttered a few curses in Chinese until Simon finally relented and helped him put the covers back on.

"Why?" Jayne asked.

"Why what?"

"Why am I so gorram tired all the time? I done nothin' but sleepin' the last couple a days, and I only wanna sleep more."

"_Four _days actually," Simon said. "It's not an uncommon reaction. Your body's been through a severe shock, and in order to heal it kind of shuts itself down. Don't worry, you'll get your strength back eventually. Just gotta rest."

He picked up his bag and made to leave the room. "You want me to leave the light on?" he asked, but Jayne shook his head and so he switched it off. "Alright then, I'll check in on you later."

He exited and shut the door behind him, and took a moment there in the hallway to collect his thoughts. He had every reason to feel pleased. His patient was doing a lot better, recovering nicely, and yet still sick enough to be pleasant and cooperative (at least by Jayne's standards). River was doing well these days too (by _her _standards), and he'd spent last night with Kaylee in the lounge and those moments usually left him feeling elated for a long while afterwards.

But now he felt as if all the energy had been drained away from his body. And he felt tense. And worn. And old.

_Just gotta rest. _

Well, Jayne could rest. _He_, Simon, couldn't. He could _sleep_, but that was not the same.

He sighed. Eight days and they would be on Boros. Things would probably look brighter then.


	3. Chapter 3

_SEVEN DAYS TO BOROS_

Mal had gone someplace he almost never ventured these days: Inara's shuttle. Well, _technically, _he told himself, it was just Shuttle 1 now, seeing as she wasn't living there anymore. The place still smelled faintly of incense but felt dark and cold without her tapestries and delicate furniture, and he wondered for a moment what had brought him there.

Old habit, perhaps? It had always been kind of his hiding place on the ship, his little get-away, even though Inara had usually ended up throwing him out whenever he came to 'visit' her.

Still, it had always been the place he went to calm himself before a big job.

It didn't seem to do the trick now, though.

One of her crates was still standing there, hidden away in the corner. He assumed she had forgotten it, though sometimes he caught himself thinking that she'd left it there purposely, as an excuse to get in touch with him someday maybe. As one last tether connecting the two of them. But that was a fantasy and he was angry with himself for entertaining it.

He had never peered inside that crate. Never touched it. Until now.

He opened the lid and her scent whirled up from the box, engulfing him.

Not the incense. Not her perfume. _Her. _

And he just couldn't do it.

He closed the crate and left the shuttle.

* * *

><p>Zoë was helping Kaylee look through the cargo for a missing spare part for the engine when she saw Mal exit Inara's shuttle. Kaylee had seen it too and a tiny "oh" escaped her lips.<p>

"Don't stare," Zoë hissed at her, and they both tried to look busy as the captain descended the stairs and went past them towards the infirmary and passenger dorms.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Kaylee sighed, "He really misses her."

"I know," Zoë replied.

"Then why did he let her leave?"

Zoë shrugged. "Guess things got a little complicated."

"No, it didn't! He likes her, she likes him, nothin' complicated 'bout that."

Zoë smiled teasingly. "You of all people, Kaylee, should know that mutual interest don't necessarily mean no complications."

Kaylee blushed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She sat down on one of the crates, but bounced right back up again. "Oh!"

Zoë raised her eyebrows, puzzled, as Kaylee fumbled through the back pocket of her overalls and pulled out a small object. "Oh," she repeated when she saw it. "Gosh, I done forgot all about this."

"What is it?" Zoë asked.

"Shepherd's pin," Kaylee said and showed her the little silvery cross. "I's gonna give it back to 'im. Look!" She pointed to an inscription at the back.

_Adelaide. 0012-0016-0999._

The young mechanic's eyes glittered. "You think maybe she was his sweetie?"

"He's a shepherd, Kaylee."

"He wasn't always one."

Zoë just smiled. "Curiosity killed the cat."

"But ain't you? Curious, I mean."

"Everybody on this ship has secrets. Guess it would only mess up my head if I tried to find 'em all out." She kept smiling and added mildly, "Tell you what, Kaylee, you put that pin somewhere the preacher will find it and pretend you never even saw it. Whatever or _who_ever Adelaide is, I got this feeling it's somethin' he don't want us to know about."

Kaylee frowned but nodded. "Guess you're right." She put the pin back in her pocket and they continued looking for the engine part.

_Adelaide._

Now, there was something vaguely familiar about that. And despite what she'd just told Kaylee, Zoë couldn't help but think that maybe a good mystery was what they needed right now.

_Adelaide 0012-0016-0999._

Curiosity killed the cat. But then again, so did boredom.

* * *

><p>This time when Book arrived, Jayne was actually awake. He was lying quietly in bed, as if lost in thought (which of course only went to underline how poorly he felt), but he looked up as the preacher entered the room, carrying a bowl of soup, a spoon and a napkin.<p>

"Hello, Jayne, feeling any better?"

"I guess," Jayne mumbled.

Book gestured with the bowl. "Doctor thinks it's time for you to try some real food." He glanced down at the greenish liquid and tried hard not to make a face. "And by 'real food' we mean non-intravenous, 'cause there's really nothing _real _in this."

Jayne eyed the bowl hesitantly. "I don't know, ain't really hungry."

"Oh come on," Book encouraged him. "Kaylee made you this and she poured her sweet soul into it. She'll only be upset if you don't eat it." He put the bowl on the nightstand. "Now, let's get you sitting up."

He managed to get a partly protesting Jayne up into a semi-sitting position, rearranging the pillows so he could lean back on them.

"I sense you're not exactly comfortable with being nursed, son," he said as he unfolded the napkin. "But you're weak and you won't be walking on that leg for a long while, so I think you best get used to it."

He draped the napkin across Jayne's chest, folding it under his chin and then picked up the bowl and spoon.

"Hell no, preacher, you ain't spoon feedin' me!" Jayne's face was a mixture of anger and horror.

Book only held out the spoon. "Take it."

And Jayne did, but just like the shepherd had anticipated his shaking hand wasn't able to hold it for long, and both the spoon and the hand fell to the blanket, and the big man sighed and made an annoyed face.

"Best let me do it," Book said and picked up the spoon again, "so the doctor won't have to treat your burns atop of everything else." He moved closer. "I won't tell anyone. Now, open up."

Jayne's eyes made it clear that this was done under protest, but his mouth didn't voice any more complaints and he reluctantly allowed the older man to feed him a couple of spoonfuls.

"Do you remember now?" Book asked him. "What happened on New Lafayette?"

"Yeah. Rufus Miller, guy I used to work with. Thought I could take 'im but… "

"Well, you're alive," the shepherd said. "Not everybody would be after lying injured in the dessert for two days."

Jayne glared at him. "Two days?"

"Yeah, the captain thought you'd quit on him and left without you. As I understood it you'd left a message for him."

"Well," Jayne said and allowed another spoonful of soup into his mouth. "I did. Can't blame 'im." He glanced at the preacher. "But you came back. Why?"

"You got River to thank for that." Book took great pleasure in telling him this and he didn't even try to conceal it.

Jayne raised his eyebrows. "River?"

"She sensed you were in danger. Made quite a racket about it. Of course we didn't understand her at first, she has a way of speaking in riddles, as you know. Apparently, my dear boy, you're an eagle."

"Eagle?"

"Yes. Well, she finally got through to the captain somehow and we turned back and found you."

Jayne snorted. "Confirms the girl's a gorram fool! What she do _that _for?"

"Well, I guess the eagle is…"

"Not _that, _though that's pretty crazy too. I meant, why'd she make the cap'n go back for me? _I _wouldn't have."

"No?"

Jayne's eyes flickered a little. "I ain't exactly been nice to her."

Book smiled a little. "Well, if you can't do something smart, do something right, I always say."

He tried to feed Jayne another spoonful, but the merc had had enough. "Sorry, I can't…" he mumbled, turning away.

"Well." Book glanced down at the soup. "That was half a bowl, I guess that's something." He put it away. "Anything else I can do for you?"

He could see Jayne hesitate a little, as if he was on the verge of making a request but then he just shook his head.

"Jayne," Book probed.

Jayne sighed and stared at his hands. "It's just that... I gotta, you know… _go._"

He glanced sideways back up at the shepherd, who said "oh" and for a moment regretted he ever asked. "Um, okay, yes, of course. Just a moment, I'll go fetch some… equipment."

They perfectly avoided looking each other in the eyes as he stood and left the room.


	4. Chapter 4

_SIX DAYS TO BOROS_

Kaylee had partly done what Zoë had told her to do. Following their conversation in the cargo bay she'd gone to the galley and put the shepherd's pin on the eating table, close to his favorite seat. Sometime during the night it had disappeared, so she assumed he'd found it.

The part about pretending she'd never even seen it, on the other hand, proved a little more difficult. Kaylee wasn't usually the person to hide or neglect her feelings, and that included curiosity. And so the thought of Adelaide was there in the back of her mind all day while she was tinkered around in the engine room, and it was more than a little possible that it showed on her face during meals and any other time she and Book happened to be in the same room.

She'd looked in on Jayne after dinner and found him a little groggy but awake and looking a whole lot better than the last time she'd seen him. He'd complained about his cast itching and she'd spent the next twenty minutes poking inside it with a steel wire trying to relieve some of that itch, while she told him everything that had happened on the ship the last few days. Which wasn't much when you excluded the mystery of the pin, and she somehow managed not to mention that.

When Simon came by to check on his patient, she left them and hung around the common area next to the dorms, hoping to catch a few words with the doctor when he was done. But when he reemerged he wasn't very talkative; he seemed stressed and tense (more so than usual), and it was during their very short conversation that she finally gave in and asked to borrow his encyclopedia.

He was more than happy to and she brought it to her bunk to look at it in private, feeling just a little guilty for probing into this matter.

She entered the search word _Adelaide _and started reading, her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

_Adelaide, _it said. _May refer to: Common name, female, meaning 'nobility'. Mainly used in the Himinbjorg system._

And under, _May refer to: City on Earth-That-Was, located on the southern coast of the Australian continent. Destroyed and rendered uninhabitable during World War III in 2057._

Gosh. She hoped this wasn't the Adelaide Book's inscription was referring to, that he didn't wear that pin in memory of some long lost relatives that had died in that tragedy. She knew some people could trace their family lines all the way back to Earth-That-Was, but mostly only rich folks, those who claimed they were royal and the like, and Book didn't strike her as such a person.

She still kind of hoped it was, or had been, a woman. And if it was, maybe somewhere in the Himinbjorg system. The thought made her smile.

But the encyclopedia hadn't provided her with any _real_ answers, and now her curiosity was only heightened.

* * *

><p>Wash was on the bridge, in his pilot seat, settling in for another lonely night at the helm. Not that he <em>had <em>to be there, not for the whole night, the course was plotted and the ship basically flew itself, but considering the fact that he was being paid to be its pilot he guessed it was only fair that he at least _looked _busy now and then.

He heard the sound of steps approaching, and he knew it wasn't Zoë because even after all these years she was still stealthy enough to sneak up on him. He sort of hoped it wasn't the captain; Mal had been kind of moody these last few days. Not all scary-angry or unreasonably snippy in any way, just gloomy and melancholic, and Zoë was right, that _was_ worse. You could only hear that many heavy, not-especially-successfully-concealed sighs coming from your otherwise steely captain before they started to get on your nerves.

He turned in his seat and saw Simon leaning in the doorway. "Doctor," he greeted jovially. "Step unto my bridge and enhance my evening."

Simon accepted the invitation and came inside the room. He was glancing out through the windows, a thousand-yard stare in his eyes, and Wash realized right away that if he wanted a conversation he'd have to push for it.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

"I _can,_" Simon replied with a sigh. "I just don't think it will make much of a difference."

"I see," Wash nodded, "you can't get relaxed."

Simon gave him half a glance. "I suppose." He sighed again. "Don't understand why, though."

Wash just smiled. "You're just a little space crazy. It happens, mostly during long journeys when there's not much to do."

Simon didn't look fully convinced. "Really? You think it's just that?"

"Sure. You're being restless. Please, have a seat." Wash nodded to the co-pilot seat.

Simon pensively sat down and didn't speak for a long while.

"Jayne giving you a hard time?" Wash eventually asked, another attempt to spark a conversation.

"No," the doctor replied. "But I'm pretty certain he will be very soon."

Wash chuckled. "Feeling better, then. Well, I guess I'm glad to hear. All things considered, life onboard weren't the same without that _qingwa cao de liumang_."

Simon didn't reply. He was still gazing out through the front window. Wash frowned. The young doctor had always been tense, hell, he'd been the dictionary definition of tense, but this was bad even by his standards.

"Everybody gets space crazy," he said, as if trying to comfort him, and then added, "Well, not me, I'm the opposite. I get _land_ crazy if we're too long in port. But that's basically the same. You just gotta find a way to unwind a little."

Simon finally looked at him. "Yeah?"

Wash nodded. "Like for instance, d'you have a hobby?"

"I used to knit," Simon answered matter-of-factly.

Wash raised his eyebrows. "Knit? Huh, well, that's a useful skill to have, I guess."

Simon smiled, glancing sideways at him. "I'm kidding."

Wash stared at him, a little shocked, but then he just laughed. "You're making a joke!" He stabbed the air with his finger. "_Good _sign!"

He glanced over his shoulder and then back at the doctor. "Tell you what, Doc, why don't you go and find us a couple of mugs? I got a little somethin' stashed under here for us."

He started rummaging through the little compartment under the control panel at his right. Simon stayed in his seat, hesitating. "Are you sure you should be drinking at the helm?"

"No alcohol," Wash said as he popped his head back up. He triumphantly held up a can for Simon to see. "It's root beer."

"Root beer?" Simon repeated.

"Trust me, it's not easy to get hold of this part of space. And it's my very last can."

"And you want to share it with _me?_"

"You need it," Wash explained. "You need bubbles."

"Bubbles?"

"Are you just gonna repeat everything I say, or are you gonna get us those mugs?"

The doctor's face broke into a wide grin and he got up and went to the galley and returned very soon with the said items. Wash carefully poured them both a drink and they took a moment to taste it and really savor it.

"What do _you_ do?" Simon asked after a short while.

"About what?"

"To unwind. When you're space crazy… or _land _crazy."

"Me?" Wash smiled. "I got my dinos." He gestured to the toys lined around the control panel.

Simon studied him for a beat. "You play with your dinosaurs?"

"Yep. Very relaxing. You're welcome to borrow them any day."

The doctor smiled a little, looking a little uncertain as to if Wash was being sincere or not about the whole playing-with-toys-issue. Then he took another sip of his drink. "Thanks. I, uh, I'll get back to you on that."


	5. Chapter 5

_FIVE DAYS TO BOROS_

Zoë knocked on Jayne's door and entered when she received a grunt she interpreted as an invitation to do so. She flashed him a smile she knew was far too cheery. "Your food," she said, lifting the tray a little as if she were introducing it to him.

Jayne just looked at her, a little suspiciously for some reason (probably because of that silly smile), and propped himself up on one elbow. Simon had told them at dinner that the mercenary's temperature was back to normal and that he was feeling a little stronger, but also insisted that the patient needed at least a couple more days of bed rest. Zoë didn't disagree now that she saw Jayne for herself. He still looked rather peaked and pale, but also relatively clean and groomed, she noticed. She suspected Shepherd Book had something to do with that.

"Today's special is brown and green with a little purple on the side," she added jokingly.

He snorted and struggled to push himself up all the way into a sitting position.

"You need a hand?" she asked and put the (so-called) food down on the nightstand, ready to help.

"I got it," he mumbled, and she stepped back and patiently watched him until he finally succeeded. It seemed to have deprived him of all his strength though, so when she slid an extra pillow in behind his back and helped him settle back on it, he didn't protest.

"Here," she said, picking the tray from the nightstand and putting it down on his lap. "Maybe try and finish everything on the plate this time, huh?"

"I wish people would stop treating me like a baby," he grunted.

"Well, you got the doctor worryin' 'bout you. And I'm the one who has to listen to all the fuss he's makin'. So, be a good boy and eat your food."

He scowled at her and then eyed the lumps of protein with a frown, but he did take a piece and put it in his mouth, slowly chewing it.

"Anything else I can get you?" she asked. "Somethin' you need from your bunk?"

"I'm good," he muttered and swallowed another mouthful. The frown on his face grew, and she didn't blame him. This stuff tasted bad enough when you were feeling _well._

She turned to leave, but stopped in the doorway to glance back at him. "Tell you what, Jayne," she said and looked at him in full earnestness, "when we get to Boros I'll get you beef."

He shot out his chin and arched an eyebrow. "You promise?"

She smiled, a real and honest smile this time. "Even if I have to go poach the cow myself."

Still smiling she closed the door and headed upstairs to the galley. Simon, Wash and the captain were sitting around the table, and the doctor looked up at her as she entered. "Well?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "He's gonna try and make a run for it. Very soon."

Simon sighed. "I'm gonna have to post a guard. The man _cannot_ get out of bed!"

He hissed out the words in a strangely aggressive way and the others eyed him, a little puzzled by this behavior. He noticed and gave another sigh, leaning back in his chair. "I'm sorry, it's just that… He needs his rest, or he'll collapse, or have a relapse, and our medicine supplies aren't exactly unlimited."

The others just nodded.

"He's just bored," Zoë said.

"Well, he'll be just as bored out here," Simon mumbled.

"We should get him some readin' material," Wash suggested, and after a short consideration he added, "With lots of pictures."

Mal tapped his tin cup against the table. "Tie him down if you have to, Doc," he said, but his voice sounded tired and distant as if he really didn't care.

"Well, I'm sure the shepherd can handle him," Simon said a little warily and shifted slightly in his chair. "They seem to have a certain rapport."

Zoë studied her captain with a sideways glance. She tried to be discreet, but she knew that he knew and he didn't allow her to scrutinize him for long. He slowly emptied his mug and stood. "Well, it's time for us all to pretend we're busy. So ladies and menfolk, back to work."

Zoë suppressed a sigh and watched him leave the room, before she did the same and followed Wash to the bridge.

"I'm worried 'bout the captain," she said as soon as they were there.

"Why?" her husband replied. "Because he's moody and melancholic? 'Cause it's not like we haven't seen that side of him before."

She sighed. "You're right. Just wish I knew how to snap him out of it, though. I hate it when he's like this."

Wash switched some switches and pushed some buttons and then settled into his seat, before he shot a short glance in her direction. "He's not the only one being a little listless these days. And Jayne's the only one with an excuse."

He gave her a few moments to reply but when she didn't, he continued, making his point, "Seems to me they're all acting a little out of character. The doctor's more tense than ever. River… River's actually _calm_… well, calm enough. And Kaylee… Did you see how she acted 'round the shepherd at dinner? She couldn't even look at him."

"Yeah?" Zoë said and casually let her eyes drift to the stars outside as she didn't want to meet his eyes at this particular point. "I didn't notice." Then she shook her head and straightened, trying to snap herself out of this state, and carefully put her hand on his shoulder. "Five more days. We're all gonna be crazy by the time we reach Boros."

"Uh-uh, not me." He patted her hand and winked at her. "And I'll keep you sane, baby."

She bent down and kissed his cheek. "I know you will."

"So," he asked, "what's on _your _mind?"

"Adelaide."

Considering what she'd told Kaylee the other day, she felt like the biggest hypocrite in the 'verse, but the truth was she hadn't been able to stop thinking about Adelaide ever since the mechanic had shown her the pin. It was gnawing at her, which was a little surprising as curiosity had never been one of her flaws. People kept secrets and usually she was okay with that. But Adelaide had triggered something in her, there was no denying it.

Wash lifted his eyebrows. "Who? Or what?"

"Don't know. Just came across the name and it seems to be stirrin' a memory, but I can't remember any details. Can't pinpoint it."

"Oh, don't you just hate it when that happens?" he exclaimed. "It's so annoying."

"Yeah."

"You tried the Cortex?"

Before she could stop him he was already on it. A little typing and info started to flash up on the screen.

"Let's see," Wash mumbled as he simmered through the text, "lots of people by that name… Hey, it was a city too. Back on Earth-That-Was." He looked at her. "Bell ringin'?"

"No, that's not it. Listen, don't bother. I'm sure I'll remember…"

"Wait, look, it's a city now as well." He pointed to the screen. "New Adelaide." He continued reading. "Oh, population three and a half thousand. Guess _'city' _was a little optimistic…"

"Where is this place?"

"Selene, first moon of Valentine."

And then it hit her. Like lightening, like a hammer between the eyes. And her insides turned cold as ice.

"I remember now," she calmly whispered.

"Oh, good," Wash smiled.

"No, honey, it's not good. Not good at all."


	6. Chapter 6

_FOUR DAYS TO BOROS_

"They were the Alliance's very best agents. Special ops, undercover missions, infiltrations, that sorta thing. Gave us hell more than once."

It was early morning and Kaylee and Zoë were huddled together in the engine room, the mechanic listening wide-eyed to the first mate's whispered words.

"Towards the end of the war we finally managed to get hold of the secret code name for their cell. It was Adelaide."

Kaylee's palms grew moist with sweat as she felt a cold shiver down her spine and nausea building in her stomach. "And you… and you think Shepherd Book was a member?" Her voice cracked halfway through the question.

Zoë kept her eyes sternly at her. "Don't rightly know what to think," she said. "But I do know the shepherd ain't always been a shepherd. Man knows way too much. 'Bout crime and violence."

"Oh gosh." Kaylee swallowed hard. "I was really rootin' for that old girlfriend option."

"Well, this don't prove nothin'," Zoë underlined. "Might still be somethin' real innocent. Or nothin' at all."

Kaylee nodded, but she didn't quite dare to believe that right now and it sure didn't look like Zoë was either. "How come you suddenly remembered this?" she asked.

"The cell was based on Selene. Wash discovered they've founded a town there now, bearing the same name: New Adelaide."

"So you told Wash?"

"No." Zoë shook her head. "Not about the pin or my suspicions 'bout Book. I think we oughta keep that 'tween the two of us for now."

Kaylee cast a short glance towards the hallway, checking to see if it was really empty. "But if he's an Alliance spy, shouldn't we tell the captain?"

"Well, like I said, we don't know if he really is. And even if he was once, don't mean he's one now. The war's long gone." She paused for a moment before she continued, "Look, the shepherd's been with us for a year now, and he's proved time and again he can be trusted. I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt."

Kaylee studied her. "You know, it would really help if you _looked _like you mean what you're sayin' right now."

Zoë smiled a little and reached out and gently touched her arm to comfort her. "You trust _me, _don't you? I'll tell the captain if I deem it necessary. Until then, just keep on pretendin' nothin' happened."

Kaylee stared down at her hands. "Not sure I can."

"You can," Zoë said, leaving no room for debate.

The mechanic sighed heavily. "Wish I never found that gorram pin."

Zoë's face softened a bit and she patted her arm in an almost absentminded manner. "I know."

* * *

><p>Jayne was halfway out of bed before he realized he needed a plan. He'd managed to move to the edge of the mattress and put his uninjured leg on the floor, but the cast on the other was quite heavy and he wasn't sure how to proceed. He would need a crutch or something, and it was while he considered his very limited options that he spotted her.<p>

Crazy was peering at him through the small crack between the sliding door and the doorframe. He couldn't see much more than her eye, but he knew it was her.

The dreamy yet haunted look; the intense stare that seemed to pierce his very soul.

He froze and stared back and when she realized he'd discovered her, she slid the door further open, revealing her whole tiny frame. She never looked away, just studied him intently.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it. "Eagle's not flapping his wings," she said in her trademark flat voice, while tilting her head a little to the side. "Doesn't make him weak. The wind still carries him."

His first reaction was to yell or bark at her, tell her to shut her crazy mouth and leave him alone, but then he recalled what Book had told him and so he just took a deep breath and said, "So I'm, like, an eagle now?"

Her face stayed grave. "Always have been."

"Well," he said, finding it surprisingly easy to stay calm. "I got no ruttin' idea what that means."

The shadow of a smile crossed her lips. "I do."

She never got to further explain what that meant (if she even was planning to), because Simon arrived just then and firmly placed his hands on her shoulders. "River, don't bother him," he said and gently nudged her on her way, before he glanced back inside the room at Jayne. "What do you think you're doing? Get back into bed."

"I _am _in bed!" Jayne protested.

"You know what I mean," the doctor retorted.

Jayne glared at him, weighing his options. Eventually deciding that fighting the doctor wasn't worth it at this point, he lifted his leg back unto the bed and lay back, actually feeling a little lightheaded and tired but hell bent on not showing it.

Simon gave him one last daring look and then closed the door.

* * *

><p>Later that day, as Simon was sitting in the lounge area by the kitchen making notes in his journal, he was joined by Wash. "Hey, Doc," he greeted him and headed to the stove looking for dinner leftovers.<p>

"Evening," Simon nodded.

Wash peered into the pans and pots but found nothing, so instead he ripped open a pack of old biscuits and put one in his mouth with a satisfied grunt. He came over to Simon and offered him one too, but the doctor declined. The pilot tilted his head, eyeing the journal with interest but not really snooping. "Come up with a hobby yet?" he asked.

Simon smiled. "Still working on that one, I'm afraid."

"As long as you're keepin' busy."

"Yeah," the doctor mumbled and glanced down at the words he'd scribbled.

Wash took a seat on the opposite side of the lounge table, happily chewing his biscuits, and Simon looked back up at him, eyeing him silently for a little while.

"How do you do it?" he eventually asked.

"What?"

"How do you stay so relaxed and positive all the time? And don't tell me it's your dinosaurs, 'cause it _has_ to be more than that."

Wash chuckled. "No, as much as I want to I can't let the dinos take all the credit. Thing is, I learned a valuable lesson some years back, when I was in flight school." He leaned forward a little. "See, I was positively determined to graduate as the top of my class. Absolutely _obsessed _with the idea. And so I studied and trained night and day, never let anything distract me from my goal. I never went to parties, I neglected my friends, _nothing _else mattered."

He paused, sat back in his chair again and made a little gesture with his hand. "I came in second. And the guy who won, and achieved the highest possible grades, was a party animal without comparison. Of course, it later turned out he'd cheated, but I don't think that ruins the morale of the story."

"And what exactly would that be?" Simon asked, a little confused.

"That some things are just beyond your control. And as soon as you accept that, you're free. Sure you don't want a biscuit?"

"No thanks, I'm good," Simon replied and then he was silent for a while, pondering the other man's words. Despite the weird story and the fact that he had no idea how the pilot managed to draw such a morale from it, the morale itself wasn't all that bad.

Wash finished eating and stood. "Of course the dinosaurs helps," he added. "And my offer still stands. Come play with them if you want."

With a wave he turned and left for the bridge, leaving Simon to watch him go with a growing smile on his face.


	7. Chapter 7

**_A/N: _**_Still rather shaken by the recent events in my home country. The bombing of our government buildings and the massacre at the political youth camp at Utøya have so far claimed 76 lives. I am fine and so are all of my friends and family, but friends of friends are among the affected people. Writing fanfic suddenly felt like such an unimportant, trivial thing to do. But I won't let one lunatic and his cowardly acts keep me from living my life and doing the things I enjoy, so that's why you're still getting an update, albeit a little shorter than usual. __In honor of the dead._

_Jeg lyser fred over deres minne._

**_- MK_**

* * *

><p><em>THREE DAYS TO BOROS<em>

Jayne's second attempted escape was thwarted by Shepherd Book. This time the mercenary had managed to get out of bed completely and was balancing on one foot, swaying dangerously, when the preacher opened the door and caught him in the act.

"Whoa," he said and reached out to grab the younger man. "Where you headed?"

"Outta here," Jayne mumbled.

"Don't think you woulda gotten too far." Book draped Jayne's arm over his shoulder, steadying him. "Feelin' a little dizzy, son?"

"I'm fine," Jayne grunted, though that was clearly a lie as he was tilting more and more towards the shepherd who found himself supporting more and more of his weight.

"Come on," Book said and lead him back towards the bed. "You're not supposed to be up 'n' about just yet, you know."

"Been restin' enough," Jayne protested.

"Not sure I agree," Book replied goodheartedly. "And it's doctor's orders anyhow."

Despite the verbal protests the physical ones were rather half-hearted and the shepherd had no problems getting the injured man back down on the bed. Jayne grimaced as Book carefully propped his casted leg on the pile of pillows, and he closed his eyes, apparently to ride out a bout of pain. The preacher felt his forehead, making sure the fever had not returned, and satisfied to find that that was not the case, he pulled the chair closer and sat down. He'd brought his Bible and balanced it upon his knee, as he mildly watched Jayne with a smile on his lips. "No need to push yourself," he said. "You got nothin' to prove."

Jayne opened his left eye and peered at him. "Jus' don't wanna be couped up in here, is all."

"Trust me, you're not missin' out, nothin' much goin' on out there. It's been a pretty uneventful trip so far, and it'll still be a few days before we reach Boros."

"Got things to see to."

"Your guns, perhaps?"

Jayne just grunted.

"I can get you your guns," Book continued.

Jayne glanced at him. "Yeah, I s'pose you can. For a _shepherd_ you really know your way with 'em."

Book chuckled. "You want me to get 'em now?"

Jayne took a few moments to consider. "Nah," he eventually said. "We can talk first."

"You want to? Talk, I mean."

Jayne didn't answer. He eyed the Bible still resting on the preacher's knee. "Any good stories in that?"

The shepherd followed his eyes. "In this?" he asked, indicating the leather bound book. "Absolutely!"

Jayne looked back up at him. "I mean like _action _stories."

Book smiled. "_Plenty_. You want me to read you one?"

Jayne shrugged. "Sure. Just kinda bored, you know."

"I understand."

"'Preciate the company."

"Oh you're welcome, boy." Book opened the Bible, flipping through the pages to find the right one. "And I know just the story for you. It starts with a tall and handsome man, a _king, _by the name of Saul."

* * *

><p>Zoë was climbing the stairs in the cargo bay, heading towards the bridge, when she heard hurried steps behind her and turned around to see Kaylee running to catch up with her. "Kaylee," she greeted. "You alright?"<p>

"No," was the young mechanic's short and immediate reply.

Zoë pulled her closer and scanned the room for eavesdroppers. "I know. But you done good," she whispered.

"That's 'cause he ain't here!" Kaylee hissed. "He's with Jayne, has been all day."

"Good for Jayne," Zoë said. "And for you, I guess."

"One look at me and he'll know, I just know it!"

Zoë shook her head. "No, I don't think so. You'll do just fine. And if it makes you feel better, I've decided to tell the cap'n."

Kaylee's shoulders slumped as she gave a sigh of relief. "Good."

"Not until we reach Boros, though. Not much can be done before that anyway. No need to create more tension."

Kaylee frowned. "Yeah," she mumbled, not sounding convinced but not protesting.

They continued up the stairs, entered the hallway and turned left for the bridge. But as they approached the hatch, River suddenly emerged from the shadows, blocking their way.

"Can't go in there," she whispered, her face grave and sincere. "Important things going on."

Zoë raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Ah-ha," she said and poked her head around the girl to glance up the little staircase and inside. She couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, but she heard her husband's voice.

His play voice.

"Aaargh, if you want this land you'll have to fight me for it!" he growled.

Zoë rolled her eyes and made to gently push River aside to continue on her way. But then she heard another voice and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Uh, alright, I'll fight you, you evil… evil... uh, dinosaur."

Was that _Simon?_

She had to bite her lip not to laugh out loud, and she turned to Kaylee and waved her closer, nodding towards the bridge and the voices emitting from the room.

"Good," they heard Wash say, in his normal voice this time. "Now, once more. With _feeling_."

"I don't know…"

Definitely Simon.

"No, no, no, you're doin' _good!_"

Behind her Zoë could hear Kaylee try to suppress a snort of laughter, and she had to stifle a few growing chuckles of her own.

"Important things," River repeated, still dead serious, still whispering.

"Yeah, important," Zoë replied with a smile and gestured for the others to follow her, and all three of them turned around and headed to the galley instead.


	8. Chapter 8

_TWO DAYS TO BOROS_

Mal was avoiding his crew. He was well aware of it and he had his reasons. _Serenity _was a small boat, despite of all the nooks and hidden compartments, and it felt even smaller for a man trying to keep a straight face. It was years since he'd last been this space crazy; yeah it was quite possibly the most space crazy he'd _ever _been. But he couldn't lose it.

Not now.

Not here.

Hopefully never.

Book would look at him, discreetly but obvious enough, whenever they happened to meet somewhere. They would talk; about what awaited them on Boros, about how they soon would have to ration the food, never about personal stuff. The preacher knew better than to probe, at least with words, but Mal still felt uncomfortable around the man. He found it hard to lie to him, and in more ways than one. And so he tried cutting their conversations short and kept his distance as much as he could. Luckily the shepherd seemed to be busy looking after the increasingly impatient patient in the passenger dorm, and so far that plan had worked just fine.

Simon had seemingly been caught up in his own issues and stayed tense and distant as the days in the black crept by. But now that appeared to have changed somehow, as he was suddenly more relaxed. This very morning he'd even smiled and been particular chatty.

Kaylee… Something was up with Kaylee. She was jumpy and almost frightened, and she would nervously move about the ship and look at him with those puppy eyes of hers whenever she got the chance, as if begging him to save her. From what, he wasn't sure.

Wash was Wash and Wash _stayed _Wash, and what else would you expect? Space never seemed to get to that guy.

And Zoë… He feared Zoë more than anyone. No one knew him like she did. And she was on to him. At least she _had _been. She too seemed preoccupied by her own problems now, he'd realized that morning, though he doubted anyone but him could see it. He had no idea what those problems were exactly; perhaps he'd ought to ask her. But then again he didn't want _her _to ask _him. _And so he kept quiet.

This boat wasn't safe, and for the first time ever, he longed to get off it.

He slid the door open and slipped inside the room, dumped down on the vacant chair, propped his legs on the side of the bed and leaned back with a heavy sigh.

Jayne had cocked an eyebrow when his captain entered and watched him silently, and he continued to do so as he absentmindedly flipped through the magazine someone had brought him. Somebody (probably Book) had also brought him Vera and a small collection of his other favorite guns, Mal noticed; they were strewn around the bed.

For a while everything was quiet.

And then Jayne spoke, his voice laden with suspicion. "You ain't talkin'."

"Didn't come here to talk," Mal replied.

Jayne frowned. "Whatcha come here for then?"

Mal shrugged. "Oh you know, just hangin'."

Jayne raised his eyebrows again. "You mean hidin'?"

Mal mimicked his expression. "Hidin'?"

"She's still gonna find you. You know that, don't you? Hell, she ain't even on the boat, so if you can't escape her out there, what makes you think you can in here?"

Mal just stared at him, not quite believing his ears. "Gorramit, Jayne!" he exclaimed and got to his feet. He stabbed the air with his index finger. "You've spent too much time around the preacher!"

Jayne lifted his hands in a defensive manner. "Hey, don't blame _me!_"

Mal offered neither an answer nor a goodbye; he just left and went straight to the cargo bay. It was the most spacious place on the ship and he really needed room right now.

He went up unto the gallery overlooking the bay, just to suddenly be reminded that his favorite spot was someone else's favorite spot too. River was sitting there, in the lotus position, her small hands gripping the banister in front of her and she peered through it at the space below.

"Hey, little one," he greeted as he approached her. "How you doin'? You itchy too?"

She looked up at him, a small smile gracing her lips, but her eyes stayed unfocused and distant.

"Going to burst," she said.

"What is?" he asked.

"He put too much inside it, tried to put the lid on so we wouldn't see. But it won't hold. If he doesn't release the pressure, it'll explode."

He gave no reply, and she turned away from him to glance back at the room. "You're just a country boy," she said.

He frowned. _What now?_ "Come again?"

"Money have you none," she continued, steadily and uninterrupted. "But you've got silver in the stars, gold in the morning sun."

Apparently she was now talking in riddles _and _in rhymes.

He turned to walk away, but stopped when she softly started humming, "_Never gonna kiss the ruby red lips of the prettiest girl in town. Never gonna ask her if she'd marry you, she'd only turn you down. 'Cause you're just a country boy. Money have you none. But you've got silver in the stars, gold in the morning sun._"

It was an old folk diddy or something. And it struck him.

Where it hurt the most. And hard.

"_Never could afford a store bought ring,_" she sang, "_with a sparkling diamond stone. All you can afford is a loving heart, the only one you own._"

He left.

He more or less ran.

Away from the cargo bay. Away from the singing. Away from the girl and her spooky mindreading.

He hurried to his bunk and closed the hatch securely behind him.

And there he released the pressure.

And cried.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **_The song here is "You're Just a Country Boy", written by Fred Hellerman/Marshall Barer and performed by Alison Krauss. I figure 500 years into the future people will simply remember it as an old folk tune ;)__

_- MK_


	9. Chapter 9

_ONE DAY TO BOROS_

The sound was even driving Wash crazy. Somehow Jayne had gotten his hands on a broom and discovered that by hitting the pipe that crossed the ceiling of his room with it, in just the right place, it could be heard more or less throughout the entire ship. For him it was an efficient way to get the attention he desperately craved, for everybody else it threatened to become the very thing that finally tipped the scale and drove them all over the edge. It wasn't particularly _loud _(unless you were in close proximity to the passenger dorms of course) but it was relenting and, after a while, extremely annoying; not unlike a dripping faucet.

Wash had entered the kitchen looking for food, nodding his greetings to Simon and River who was already sitting there, when the racket started again and made him groan out loud. "_Taikong suoyou de xingqiu saijin wo de pigu!_" he exclaimed as he threw his arms up and dumped down in the seat next to the doctor. "Will you _please _let the man out of bed, Doc? For _all _our sakes!"

Simon just nodded and stared blankly at the empty salt dispenser situated on the table in front of him, looking like he'd tried to block out the sound but failed and then just sort of given in to it. "Yeah," he sighed tiredly. "I think he's strong enough."

They heard Mal curse loudly in the hallway leading up to the bridge and Kaylee shout "I'm on it!" from the engine room in the opposite direction and then "Coming, Jayne!" mixed with her footsteps as she hurried down the stairs.

The captain came in, Zoë in tow, and he glared angry around the room at nothing in particular until the pounding beat had stopped. Then he pulled out a chair and sat down, while Zoë slipped into the seat next to Wash, gently touching his arm as she did so.

Shepherd Book entered and after greeting them, went over to the stove and started rummaging through the cupboards, soon joined by Simon.

Wash let his eyes drift around the room, counting the heads, and when Kaylee came in a few moments later, he realized that they, with the exception of Jayne, were all present for once.

"What was it _now?_" Mal asked his mechanic as she took her seat.

"One of his guns was outta reach," she replied. "Apparently. And he said Simon told him not to move."

"I never told him not to _move,_" the doctor protested. "Just to stay off his feet."

"Well," the captain said dryly. "He wasn't this annoying before he actually started _listening_ to you."

This made Book chuckle over at the kitchen counter, something that proved to be quite contagious as all the others ended up smiling too, even Mal.

Wash was thrilled (and a little amazed) by the fact that things appeared to be slowly returning to normal on the boat. The captain seemed more aware and in touch with his surroundings; his face was still mostly grave but his eyes looked more alive as he swept his gaze across the room, eyeing each of his crewmembers in turn.

The shepherd had carved up the protein bars and started passing them down the table. This was obviously turning into a sit-down meal, and Wash's mood got even better. They hadn't had one in eight days and he'd missed them more than he would ever have guessed beforehand.

After Book had quietly said grace (and at least Simon and Kaylee joined him) and they'd started eating, Mal turned to Wash. "Please tell me we'll be on Boros tomorrow," he said.

"We will," Wash assured him. "Everything's going according to plan. We should be there by early afternoon ship-time."

The captain shook his head. "Never thought I'd say this, but I ain't gonna cry to have dirt under my feet again."

"Or to breathe real air," Simon supplied.

"Or to have a bath," Zoë sighed.

"Yes," Book said as he settled into his seat. "It's certainly been a strange week." After taking a small bite of his food, he added, "Me, for instance, I lost my lapel pin."

Wash felt Zoë stiffen next to him and he turned to give her a quizzical glance. He saw her eyes flash to Kaylee for a short second, and then she just stared down at her plate. With a frown Wash looked over at the young mechanic himself and noticed that her reaction was just like his wife's, though she didn't manage to keep her face quite as blank.

"I thought I'd dropped it in here," the preacher said. "But I looked everywhere and I couldn't find it. Until a couple of days later when it turned up here on the table."

"That's good," Simon said, with genuine empathy.

"Yes," Book agreed. "I thought maybe someone had found it and put it there, and I didn't think more of it." He paused for a moment. "But then, when I borrowed your encyclopedia, Doctor, to double-check some facts for Jayne – I tell you, that boy asks _a lot_ of questions when he's bored – I discovered that the last search word entered was 'Adelaide'."

Simon frowned. "I don't recall making that search."

"Adelaide?" Wash said. "But that's…" Zoë kicked him hard under the table and he almost instinctively shut his mouth.

"Interestingly enough," the shepherd went on, "Adelaide is also what the inscription on my pin says. So I figure the person who found it was a little curious."

Kaylee's face was now sporting the color of a ripe tomato, and when Wash cast another glance at Zoë he saw that she was still staring intently at her plate.

Mal was also shifting his eyes between the two women; his face was stern but with a hint of amusement mixed in.

Book continued. "Now, the person might have thought Adelaide to be the name of a woman, perhaps someone from my past. That's a reasonable assumption and I can see why it would spark an interest. Am I right?"

Even though he wasn't looking at her, the question was clearly directed at Kaylee, who broke at this point. "Sorry," she squealed, hiding her face in her hands.

Everybody, even River, had put their chop sticks down, their attention solely at the preacher now. Wash shot a glance at his wife again. "But didn't you…" he began, but it only earned him another kick to his shin.

Book wasn't finished yet. "But what I _really _don't hope," he said, "is that someone tied the inscription to the settlement on Selene and the Alliance terrorist cell it's named after. That would have caused them unnecessary worry, I assure you."

He looked at Zoë with a teasing gleam in his eye. She too put her elbows on the table and hid her face now. The preacher chuckled.

"What _does _the inscription mean, then?" Simon asked.

Book stroked the pin with the tip of his fingers. "Adelaide is a saint. Among other things, the guardian saint of exiled people. I thought it… _fitting_ that she'd be _my _guardian saint as well."

"What about the numbers?" Kaylee asked, daring for the first time to look up from behind her hands. "Zero-zero-twelve, zero-zero-sixteen, zero-nine-nine-nine."

"The date of her death," the shepherd explained. "Her memorial day. December 16, in the year 999."

"Oh…"

"Starting again!" River exclaimed, and just as the words had left her mouth the pounding sound from the pipes began once more.

Mal slammed his hands down on the table. "Okay, that's it! _Who _gave him that gorram broom?"

If possible Kaylee looked even more guilty, but Book got to his feet, still chuckling. "I'll go," he said and starting walking towards the door.

"You tell him to _stop_ or I'll come down and demonstrate alternative uses for that thing!" the captain yelled after him.

Wash heard a little sound emitting from his wife and he turned to face her, soon realizing that she was laughing. "God, I feel so silly," she mumbled as she tried to straighten herself.

Kaylee started laughing too, and even River smiled happily at them as the others soon joined in.

* * *

><p>When Shepherd Book had listened to Jayne's requests, fulfilling the more reasonable ones and relayed the captain's threats, he went to his own bunk and carefully slid the door shut behind him.<p>

He removed the pin from his lapel and held it in the palm of his hand, studying it with a smile. Nothing indicated that the girls had discovered its other purpose. He retrieved the little box from his crate, put the pin in the lock and twisted it, making the lid pop off. He peered inside at the contents and his smile grew.

It was still there.


	10. Chapter 10

_DAY OF ARRIVAL_

Mal moved slowly about the cargo bay and checked all the straps and safety nets for the umpteenth time, knowing very well that the he was only doing it because it gave him a chance to be alone. Not that he was still hiding from his crew; somehow their presence didn't feel like it was choking him anymore. But he knew this would be his last chance for some peace and quiet for a while. Their ETA was in less than five hours and once on Boros life would be swarming around him.

He smiled. Maybe that would be a good thing for a change?

But right now he appreciated the silence, and it wasn't heavy and laden with emotions like before. He was more in control of himself now than he had been in a long time. Still sad, still so gorram sad, but _in control._

The good cry he'd had alone in his bunk a couple of days earlier had been the turning point, but not because of the crying itself, he was pretty sure about that. It had released the pressure, as River would have put it, but the reason for his feeling better was something else: Basically that he for the first time had allowed himself to admit the real cause of his grief. And even though he still missed her, and even though she would never come back, that admission had still taken the sting out of it, and he felt stronger, clear-sighted and ready for whatever fate would throw at him.

Life wasn't perfect, but it would have to do for now.

The sound of some commotion in the common area by the passenger dorms caught his attention and he went to investigate. He turned the corner by the infirmary and stopped to take in the sight, another smile spreading across his face. "Hey, look who's up," he said.

Jayne was in the process of crossing the floor on crutches, a little slow but steady enough. Simon hovered around him like a nervous mother watching her toddler take his first steps, and Book was watching the scene from where he stood next to the couch, with a smile on his lips and his arms folded across his chest. Mal also spotted River sitting on the stairs leading up to the upper deck, peering at them over the banister.

"Easy now," the doctor admonished. "It's alright to sit down, if you feel lightheaded or…"

"Will you just shut it?" Jayne snarled at him.

"Oh, by all means, don't listen to me," Simon sarcastically retorted. "I'm just the doctor, what would _I _know?"

Book turned to Mal with a chuckle. "I believe things are returning to normal here."

"Flap, flap, flap," River said, and they all turned to look at her, Jayne with a glare and the other three with bewilderment.

"Apparently so," Mal replied the preacher.

* * *

><p>"We got visual," Wash proclaimed as the planet Boros came into view in front of them.<p>

Standing next to his pilot seat his wife gave a heavy sigh of relief. "Aw, ain't that a sight?" she said. "God knows this is one trip I won't remember fondly."

"I'd say everybody got a little crazy this time," Wash agreed. "Except me, of course."

"'Cept you," Zoë replied with a smile. She was quiet for a little while, her eyes locked to their long-awaited destination, before she added, "Don't know what, but somethin' got the better of us this time around. Me… I felt so _tense. _I just wanted to scream and yell, you know."

He gave her a sideways glance. "Was that before or after you poked your nose into the shepherd's business?" he teased and laughed as she mock-slapped the back of his head.

"Well, it's the last time, I'll tell you that," she said. "From now on people can keep their secrets. Fine by me."

He chuckled. "Well, it's over anyways, we're here now. And not a minute too soon." He tapped the console with his finger. "We're out of fuel. Which means we'll be stuck here until we have the money to refill the tanks. Could be a while…" He frowned.

She smiled, draped her arms around his neck and planted an affectionate kiss on his cheek. "I'll keep you sane, honey," she said. "And, _by God,_ take us down."


	11. Chapter 11

_EPILOGUE_

'_And so we finally made it to Boros after what felt like the longest trip ever! The Sanchez brothers say there might be a job for us, but not in another couple a weeks or so, so for now we're just sitting tight. It's fine really, gives us some time to smell the air and Jayne a chance to get back on his feet – or foot, as he's sorta up on the one already. We're trynna keep a low profile (you know how it is) and so far I'd say we're doing great :) That is if they don't find out about the cow…_

_Oh, forgot to mention that, didn't I? See, Zoë killed and stole a cow from one of the nearby ranches. Turns out she'd promised Jayne beef. The captain threw a fit over it, but the meat sure did taste good :)'_

Inara smiled as she flipped the page to read the rest of the letter. She always loved getting Kaylee's handwritten records on everything that went on back on _Serenity. _The girl wrote so vividly, never skipped a detail describing the daily life onboard, and Inara could easily see everything play out in front of her eyes. Sometimes she even temporarily forgot she wasn't there anymore.

She stroked the paper with her fingertips, taking a moment to appreciate Kaylee's girlish handwriting and the way she dotted her i's with little hearts, before she continued reading.

'_He miss you, you know, the captain. He'll never admit it, that's for sure, you know how stubborn he can be, but he really does. I know it. Please don't give him up._

_Hope life is good to you and to hear from you soon._

_Love,_

_Kaylee_

_PS. Book and Simon say hi. I guess the others do too, but they're not here right now.'_

With a sad smile gracing her ruby lips, Inara carefully folded the letter and put it in the wooden bejeweled box in which she kept all her most priced possessions.

"I miss him too," she whispered, closing the lid.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_That's it - for now. This thread continues in "Here Comes The Rain" which I will start working on soon. How soon depends on how good real life is treating me the coming weeks :)_

_Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and especially to those who left a review._

_Love, MK._


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